


It's About The Journey

by katie_b



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clarke is not having the best day, Conventions, F/M, Gen, Renaissance Faires, but find their way in the end, but two siblings manage to make it better, the blakes are lost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katie_b/pseuds/katie_b
Summary: "We are not asking the dragon for directions."Bellamy and Octavia are lost, and seek help from an unlikely source





	It's About The Journey

**Author's Note:**

> based on a dialogue prompt

It wasn't enough that Bellamy had agreed to go with Octavia to the convention where her boyfriend was the guest artist. No, they also had to end up getting lost in a completely different event, one that involved a lot of people wearing medieval masks and costumes. They'd spent at least half an hour walking around, looking for directions before they had to admit they were lost. But the older Blake sibling was nothing if not stubborn. In fact, his stubbornness was only rivaled by that of his sister.

"We are not asking the dragon for directions," Bellamy said, trying and failing to ignore his growing headache. They had finally found some kind of information corner, and of course the person in charge of it was dressed as a dragon.  
"How else do you expect we find the way back?"  
"Well, I would use the gps on my phone if someone didn't spend all the battery playing that stupid game!"  
"You know Cwazy Cupcakes is my addiction, why would you even have it on your phone?"

Bellamy checked his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour, hoping his glaring at it would be enough to turn it on. "I didn't. You took my phone and installed it."  
"It's my drug, I can't help myself."

Bellamy wasn't impressed with her excuse. "And now you're paying for that. Come on, let's go ask him." He started walking towards the booth, but Octavia hesitated.  
"He looks weird."  
"Of course he does, he's wearing a dragon suit," he said with a laugh. "Don't tell me you're scared."  
She scoffed. "Please. Do I look like a damsel in distress to you?"  
"If I remember correctly, you did have a princess phase. Which one was your favorite, again?"  
"Mulan, especially the part where she kills a bunch if enemy soldiers."  
"God, you're weird."  
"Says the guy who has a list of top ten favorite myths about creation of the world."  
"You're just jealous of how cool of a brother you have."  
Octavia didn't answer that, instead punching Bellamy in the shoulder. "Come on, you nerd. Maybe the dragon also knows those myths, and you can bond over that."

Bellamy followed her, just happy they were getting somewhere, hopefully away from here. He'd gotten enough handkerchiefs to last him a year.

He quickly caught up to her, and they reached the booth just in time to hear the dragon having a heated discussion… with another dragon.

"I don't see any effort put in your costume. Dragons aren't supposed to have fur!"

Bellamy barely stopped himself from laughing out loud, and Octavia didn't even try. The other dragon turned around, nearly smacking them with the wings that looked like they were made of garbage bags.

"I'm sorry, are you laughing at me?" His voice was garbled because of the mask, but it was clear he was offended.  
"Do you see something else around here worth laughing at?" Octavia looked ready for an argument, but Bellamy didn't have the time or the nerves needed for that.  
"Look, we just came to ask for directions. She didn't mean to laugh at your costume."  
"Yeah, I did."

Where was a wall when you needed to smack your head against one? Not that Bellamy really needed it with his headache.

"I'm glad this is amusing to you," the douche dragon said, "but I don't consider this convention a joke. So wait your turn." He turned back towards the booth, apparently eager to continue the previous discussion. "So about the fur, I was saying-" 

"Look, dude, I only work here." The dragon at the booth removed the top part of the mask. Underneath was a tired-looking girl; her hair was plastered to her forehead, and her mascara was smudged.

She seemed to be in even worse state than Bellamy, and that was saying something.

"They dressed me up as a dragon, and my job is to sit here, look threatening and give people vague directions. I'm not paid to discuss the quality of any of the costumes here. So get off my back, and instead go find someone who gives a shit."

This time both of the Blake siblings laughed as the douche dragon skulked away.

Octavia shook her head. "Who knew dragons were also huge dicks. No offense to you," she said to the girl. "You seem awesome."

The girl laughed, a sound that seemed to lessen Bellamy's headache. "Thanks," she said. "I'm not usually that rude, but my day's been horrible, and that guy's been around, like, three times." She leaned back into the wooden chair. "It's what I get for taking this job."  
"We've all been there," Bellamy said. "People can be real jerks."  
"Yeah, they can." She smiled at him. "But some seem okay."

Bellamy didn't have to look at his sister to know she was grinning at him. She must be enjoying this.

"I'm Octavia, and this here is my nerd of a brother."  
"Nice one, O. I'm Bellamy." He held out his hand.  
"Clarke," the girl said, accepting it. "Nice to meet you. Both of you. You mentioned earlier something about needing directions?"  
"Yeah," Octavia answered. "We kind of went to the wrong convention. Bellamy can fill you in, I'm gonna go find us coffee or something. Do they even serve coffee here?"

Clarke scratched her head, further tangling her already messy hair. "The vendors are only selling some weird homemade fruit juice, but there's a vending machine next to the spinstresses that I'm pretty sure has coffee. You just take a right after you pass the sword exhibit."  
"Words I never thought I would hear. If I get lost, I'll ask a knight in shining armor for help."  
Clarke laughed at that. "Believe me, you're better off on your own. The only thing they're good at is asking for a symbol of your affection."  
"In that case, I hope they're used to disappointments," she said, turning to leave.

"You can give them mine!" Bellamy shouted after her, pulling put the handkerchiefs he'd been given, but Octavia was already lost in the crowd. He sighed, putting them back in his pocket.

"That's an impressive amount of favors. The noble ladies must love you," Clarke noted with a smirk.  
"Must be my wrinkled clothes. Or the glasses." Speaking of which, they could use some cleaning. Bellamy took them off and wiped them on the edge of his shirt. He noticed Clarke watching him.  
"The glasses," she mumbled to herself. "Must be it."

And the hair, the face, the freckles, the whole package. Of course he wouldn't be aware of how handsome - or adorable - he was.

She cleared her throat and spoke. "Your sister said you ended up in the wrong convention?"  
"Yeah. We weren't expecting any other convention this weekend so we followed the directions on the gps and ended up here. Her boyfriend is a guest artist at the tattoo convention, and Octavia planned on surprising him, so if you have any idea how to get there, we'd be eternally grateful."

Clarke had to laugh at that; one would expect the billboards for the two conventions would be obvious enough to prevent something like this. "I might be a heartless dragon, but your story sparked something in me. I'll help you get to your destination," she said in her best imitation of Smaug, which was still pretty bad.

Lucky for Bellamy and his sister, she knew the directions to the tattoo convention. As she began writing them down on a piece of paper, she found herself making small talk with Bellamy. He was easy to talk to, and soon the conversation turned towards dragons.

"You know about them more than I do, and I'm supposed to be one of them," Clarke laughed. "Wanna switch places?"  
"No, thanks," Bellamy refused. "I'll keep to the theory and the stories."  
"Are you a writer?"  
"I teach history, but I've always loved legends and myths. I have my mother to thank for that."  
"If you really love that kind of thing, there's a panel about flying mythical creatures that starts in about an hour."  
Bellamy scratched his head. "I'm not sure we'll be done with the other convention until then, at least Octavia won't. Her and Lincoln are kinda difficult to separate once they're together."

Clarke tried not to be too disappointed with that; the offer was a long shot, anyway. Still, she couldn't help the small frown that appeared on her face.

Bellamy didn't notice it, though; Octavia emerged from the crowd, holding three styrofoam cups.

"Coffee as black as Bellamy's soul," she said, handing him a cup, "so two creams and one sugar. And I got normal black for you, Clarke. If you need sugar or cream, they're in my pockets somewhere, just be careful not to prick yourself."

Only then did Clarke and Bellamy notice a small bouquet of roses peeking out from Octavia's jacket.

She rolled her eyes. "Those stupid knights could give me a rose, but would they help me carry the coffees? Of course not! That is beneath them!"

Clarke accepted the cup from Octavia, deciding against rummaging in her pockets for sugar.

"Oh, cheer up," Bellamy said. "We have the directions. You'll see your prince charming in no time."  
"I hope so. This place is starting to get on my nerves."  
"It's not all bad."

He tried - and failed - not to glance at Clarke. 

"Yeah, if you ignore the crowd, the weird smells, the fact that people are quoting Shakespeare for fun…" She drifted off, noticing the way Clarke was staring at her brother. Immediately an idea formed in her mind.

"You know what? You're right. This place is perfect for you. The tattoo convention has needles. Lots of them. You remember the time you got tetanus because you refused the vaccine?"  
Bellamy rolled his eyes. "I was twelve."  
"Did you get any shots after that time?"

Silence.

"I thought so." Octavia pulled out the roses from her pocket and gave them to Bellamy. "I'll leave these to you, feel free to give them to the next girl you see that has bathed in the last two weeks."  
"Wait, I have the keys, you can't just drive off-"

Octavia pulled out the keys from her other pocket. She grinned, despite being glared at by Bellamy. "Have fun, don't catch the plague, I'll see you in a couple of hours."

And she was off, leaving a stunned Bellamy and an amused Clarke behind.

"Is she always like that?" she asked.  
"Most of the time. I should've gotten used to it by now." He stared at the roses in his hand. "I don't suppose you have a vase for these?"  
Clarke laughed. "I could put water in my soda cup." She began to take off her dragon suit. "My shift's over in fifteen minutes," she explained to him, seeing his confused expression.  
"So I'm basically stuck here until O comes back. Great."  
"What? No, I'll be your company." She pulled off the bottom part of the suit, sighing in relief. "A guide that protects you from the hordes of thirsty maidens." She put on her boots and stood up from the chair, stretching. "If you're fine with that, of course," she said, suddenly hesitant. Maybe Bellamy didn't want her tagging along.  
"No, no, that would be great." He smiled at her, offering her the roses. "I could use a guide, especially a dragon."

Clarke remembered Octavia's words from before and she had to laugh. "I'm not really sure I smell that good after six hours in that stupid suit, but how can I refuse flowers from a lost soul." She grabbed her bag from the table, as well as the empty plastic cup. When she straightened, she paused.

Bellamy was watching her, and looked like he wanted to say something.

"Everything okay?" she asked.  
"Thank you for doing this. I'll have to repay you somehow next time. Something better than wilted roses." Realizing what he said, he rushed to explain, "I didn't mean next time in that sense, there doesn't have to be a next time, I don't even know what I was going to say-"

Clarke passed by him, taking his hand in hers and going towards the water fountains. Turning towards him, she said, "Fresh roses could work. A small tip for the next time."

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed the story :)  
> reviews, kudos, and any criticism is welcome!


End file.
